That Smell
by Yautja's Blooded Pet
Summary: Scent is the most unbiased sense- powerful enough to pull directly on memories. "I wish it happened" scene fic- Degeneration- Oneshot


"When did you two go diving, hmmm?"

The question bit at the tip of his ears, a subtle hint of jealously slipping between pale pink, lightly glossed lips. Jealousy that wouldn't be there only if the girl in question really knew what she meant to Leon S. Kennedy.

The poor man was a sucker. Raised by his loving mother and dedicated father to never make a girl cry, his hidden soft nature always landed the man into tight situations. First with Ada Wong; he couldn't let the woman die thinking she was rebuked. Ashley, he had to be nice to; his job and sanity required the president to trust him enough to send him away from her more. Angela here, had a puppy crush on the blond softie from the moment Leon ordered the rescue team to be comprised of three people. He walked as quickly as possible. He didn't want to get attached or generate any interest_**. Look where that got him**_. Hell, the Special Agent even teased his contact, Hunnigan, just to make sure that she didn't actually want in his pants! He eventually became grateful to this brunette superior. She finally figured out that he loathed cases where he needed to work with women because they couldn't just keep their minds on the job.

All these demanding women, yet the one woman he had eyes for seven years ago had big issues picking up her phone. That and the President really needed to stop calling his.

Leon grinned inwardly, responding to Claire Redfield's question lightly.

"That's not important. **More important**ly, what are **you** up to? Need a lift?" Leon all but grinned. She _was_ more important. He only wished that he could stress it enough.

"I have a limousine waiting." Leon sighed to himself. He liked Ronnie and her Aunt, but he really wished that for once, he could be the one to take Claire home. He was hoping to ask her out for coffee, or at least for a decent meal after rescue team slop. How often do you get a free "go wherever" helicopter?

"**Next time** we _bump_ into each other, let's hope it's some place… a little more normal." _'Like my kitchen on Sunday for dinner!' _Leon couldn't just say it; he couldn't just barge into her life and maybe, _maybe _get rejected. What if she had someone? Then he'd really never see her again.

"Hehe.. definitely." That smile was so… so _**Claire**_.

"Till next time." Leon went to turn around, thinking that he'd run to the awaiting helicopter. Disappointment swelled in his chest. She was going to just _**go**_ again. The last time they had a goodbye like that, he hadn't seen her or heard from her in _years_.

Movement caught the corner of his eye and he snapped back to where the red head was supposed to be retreating. Rather, she was stepping forward, a smile on her face. Leon froze, eyes widening just a bit. A tiny little bit, a miniscule crack in his careful emotional shield.

Claire stepped into the frozen blond's body and wrapped her arms around his waist, curving her head up into his neck. Her hands pushed their way through the inside of his jacket, wrapping around to clutch at the muscles of his back. She pressed her body against his in a soft, tender, almost loving embrace. Shocked, Leon slowly pulled his arms around her, as if she would break if he moved too quickly. He was so careful, almost fearing that she'd change her mind about this the moment he touched her. The man wasn't usually so cautious… but this was _**Claire**_. She wasn't made of glass but she wasn't made of cold steel. She wasn't made up like street-corners in Vegas. She never tried too hard or really pushed herself on the Boy scout. She didn't need to dress up. She didn't need to impress anyone. She just_** was**_. Fragile, beautiful, Super-woman strong;_** Claire**_.

Leon let go of the breath he had been holding and fought against his headlight state of mind. He lifted one of his hands and pulled her shoulders deeper to his chest, resting his nose aside the top her head. His fingers threaded themselves through the shiny red locks tangling from Claire's ponytail, feeling her hair caress his callused hands. If his skin could have a pre-pubescent, excitement spurned orgasm, it would have happened now.

For once in a long time, Leon let go of his careful facial control and just held her there.

He felt her nose and lips at the crook of his neck, brushing almost seductively across his skin- one fantasy of many that flashed through his head. It hit him._** Claire**_ was in his arms. _**Claire**_'_**s**_ breath was brushing across his neck at a point most intimate and vulnerable. Leon suddenly felt like he had been running a marathon. What other woman could stop and re-start his heart at command? What other woman could do nothing but hold _**HIM**_ and spark all of this emotion in one fell swing?

A breath tickled his cheek, a whisper on his skin.

"…Huh?" Leon's mind formed a blank. She said something. What was it? When did his brain stop working? Could he speak coherently? Was he speaking English?

She held him, locking him into the embrace.

"Your smell. You always smell like _Oakwood Cleaner_* and _Gunpowder_. You have for... seven… long years."

Leon exhaled. His breath shuddered and hung in the air with his suddenly elevated emotional tension. The Australian leather cleanser and conditioner was a good yet guilty habit left over from his father. The conditioner was exotic and rarely used by other aficionados. This was something he never admitted to. The cleaner was fragrant, luxurious, and terribly _vain_. He never told anyone what he used! It was his dirty secret. Not that anyone else would actually use it. It contained _**Emu**_ oil for Christ's sake!

Did she really remember? How did she know?

He couldn't move or speak, just attempt to not frown as he felt her pull away. His eyes softened when they locked with hers again. Those big beautiful eyes with that cute, well-meaning wink. **God**. Thinking back on it, that wink was almost her last. He almost.. _lost_ her. _Earth_ to Leon? Come in, Kennedy! Code **RED!** Your big chance is here! Its currently holding a bright red **sign **right in front of your **FACE**!

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. No magic Kennedy quick pick-up lines or softie-mode confirmation enchantment. None of his usual Muses fired up. This wasn't comforting Ada. This wasn't being nice to Ashley. This wasn't throwing pick-up-lines that he knew wouldn't lead anywhere with Hunnigan. This wasn't trying to be polite to Angela. Where did his usual charm go? He couldn't even deny or agree on her acute sense of smell and memory. Words? What were words? You're supposed to speak them?

Claire grinned so sweetly, eyes soft and lidded, but retaining that fire that made her so unmistakably_** Claire**_. She held up a single folded slip of paper and pressed it into his palm before turning to walk away. Leon missed the glimmer in her eye and sadly turned. Leon jogged to the chopper, fighting himself to not rush back and ask to see her again soon. He could count the beats of his heart in his throat.

After the man settled into the helicopter, he immediately drew the paper out of his pocket, fumbling and almost dropping the precious little piece of heaven._ Keep it together, Kennedy!_ He held the note almost tenderly, observing every possible inch, in the event that it was his last memory. The last time he clung to something so tightly, Ada had shot him in the back. _This wasn't Ada- this will never be like that. This is __**Claire**_. Unmistakably, undeniably _**Claire**_. His eyebrow twitched as he noted that the corners were slightly worn, as if the paper was unfolded and refolded again, repeatedly. _How long had she been holding onto this? _Leon unfolded it carefully.

Leon was never a man for impressions. Hell, on some nights, people think he has no sense of humor to speak of. When Leon wasn't producing Genius one-liners that didn't actually mean anything, the man was actually quite stoic. For the second time this day, he had been stunned into a very remarkable impression of a deer trapped in the high-beams of an oncoming truck pulling 65 on the freeway. If the helicopter didn't shake a bit before jolting into the air, Leon may just have bitten off this tongue. _Gotta watch that._

_**Leon,**_

_**Dinner. My place- the 6th. I'll expect you at 5:30. Don't be late, Ace.**_

_**~Claire**_

No questions. No offers. No 'If you are free." A single demand. Confident _**Claire**_. _Did she know_? Did she figure out that he would do _everything _in his power to keep from disappointing her? Leon smiled so hard that his cheeks ached. Those particular muscles haven't worked in a while. The flourish starting the "C", that little tail on the "e." So… so .. _**Claire**_.

Leon flipped up his phone and checked his calendar. His face heated so softly. Even after seven years, Claire knew him, understood him, and apparently, cared. He wasn't rejected after all. The man opened up video communications with headquarters and silenced the phone, to keep the beats of the chopper blades from hurting his coworker's ears. Hunnigan had to see him to know it was him texting.

_**Hey, remember that break I was offered?**_

_**Yeah. I'll take it. Two weeks from now, starting on Friday.**_

_**No. Saturday won't work.**_

_**I need to be somewhere on Sunday.**_

_**Its important. I want plenty of time to make it there. I can't be late.**_

_**Thanks. I owe you.**_

Had to get that off my chest.

~The Blooded Pet~

_* Yes- Oakwood Cleaner and conditioner exists... No- I don't own that either. I most certainly don't own Resident Evil, or it would be obvious that parts of Degeneration wouldn't have happened._


End file.
